Phoenix Knight: Sydney's Angel
by Writerswand
Summary: Sydney Carton will not die today, or ever, until it's his time at least. And there's one person to thank for that.  LucieXCharles  LucieXSydney   SydneyXOC a little


**So...call me a nerd but I don't care. I may hate this book cause it was so annoying but I fell in love with Sydney Carton so neh! ^_^' I love Sydney! **

**you know...I am so obbsessed I've been relating my music to him...*sighs***

**Songs:**

**Behind Blue Eyes ~The Who  
So Far Away ~Nickelback  
Lost in You ~Three Days Grace  
Hero/Heroine ~ Boys Like Girls  
Never Gonna be Alone ~ Nickelback  
Sing for Absolution ~ Muse  
Superman ~ ?  
Black Holes and Revelations (or is it called Starlight? Gah!) ~ Muse  
Gotta be Somebody ~ Nickelback  
Falling for You ~ Colbie Calhat  
**

**anyways, well, here it goes:**

**WritersWand**

**A Tale of Two Cities Oneshot  
**

Sydney Carton walked down the hallways, climbing up the stairs of the prison until he reached the small room in which his lookalike, Charles Darnay-Evremonde- was unjustly imprisoned.  
Carton had an idea and he was determined to put it to action. He had been granted permission to see the noble and therefore had been given a key.  
When he came up to the cell door with that number on it he stopped. The number carved itself into Sydney's mind, the number that marked his semi-new friend's imprisonment.  
He slid the key into the lock and opened the door just enough to slip in.  
Darnay sat at a small desk, a desk that was probably giving him limited leg room, quill in hand, ink and a piece of parchment on the desk top, yet he wasn't writing.  
When Sydney closed the door behind him Darnay looked towards the man.  
"Carton! What are you doing-"he began.  
"Visiting a friend, is there anything wrong with that?" Carton asked sadistically, attempting a little smile.

Darnay raised an eyebrow but decided to go with it.  
Sydney-hands inside his waist coat- strolled to the other side of the small cell, fingering the powdery chemicals in his pocket.  
"So…Have you had many visitors?" Sydney asked, his back turned from Charles as he pulled the chemicals out of his pocket.  
Darnay shrugged. "Doctor Manette comes sometimes…" he trailed, obviously lost in thoughts, perhaps about their beloved?  
"Yes, Yes, of course he would," Carton said, not really paying attention, as he pressed the chemicals together to get what he wanted.  
"What do you mean by that?" Darnay asked. His answer was one of little expect, Sydney Carton shoved his hands in front of Charles face, in his fingers some strange, powdery substance.  
"What do you make of this Darnay?" he asked the teacher.  
Darnay took the substance from the lawyer, keeping it away from his face. He examined it. Finally finished he started to hand it back to Carton.  
"That's some interesting stuff you got there Sydney," he said.  
Before Sydney was able to grasp the chemicals, something clicked.  
Darnay shot up from the desk and walked over to the window without a word.  
Sydney's eyes widened as he realized what the man was doing. He ran over to Darnay but before he could stop him Charles dropped the chemicals out the window.  
Down, down, down, they fell until they reached the Wood Sawyer far below, where almost immediately he collapsed.  
"Do you know what you just did!" Carton shrieked, throwing his arms up in the air.  
"I'm not going to let you die just for me," Darnay sighed, sitting back in the chair in front of his desk.  
"What if I want to? What if my only care in the world is that you get back to your family so they can be happy?" Carton asked.  
Darnay sighed as he continued to write.  
"Am I right?"  
"No,"  
"Why?"  
Darnay put his hands flat on the desktop and stood up. He slowly turned his head sideways, to see Sydney sidelong.  
"You could never die for me Sydney Carton, you may not think it, but there's a lot of people who care about you too, get out of this cursed city for God's sake, go find somebody special and live happily for how many years you have to come,"  
Carton's hands were clenched in fists. "I can't let you do this, I can't let you let yourself die," he said preparing to throw a punch, his only intention for good, to knock him out so he won't exist when he tried to help him.

Unfortunately-for Sydney's case at least- Darnay had spun on his heels to face Carton fully and swung his own punch at the lawyer who was recalled to life.  
Darnay didn't mean to really hurt Carton either; it was just to stop him from hurting himself later, and worse.  
Darnay walked over to the unlocked door and stepped one foot outside. He didn't bother escaping, he would be caught, or Sydney killed, which he's trying to prevent at the moment.  
Darnay called a nearby guard over, the guard strolled over, annoyed and confused until Darnay explained.  
Scowling, the guard took Sydney out of the building.  
Of course Darnay didn't tell the guard the whole story; he mixed up the facts for both of their sakes.

Sydney Carton woke up in front of Tellson's Bank. He was sitting slumped on a bench by the Iron Gate that surrounded the bank.  
Carton ran a hand through his brown hair, noticing it had come out of its ponytail. He smoothed it down and stood up, straightening his jacket.  
The bank was closed, but it wasn't too late, so Jarvis Lorry must have gone to Lucie's house.  
He began making his way over there, wondering how he was ever supposed to explain this to them. It didn't help that he couldn't think clearly because his head pounded and was foggy.  
He almost did not even want to go over there, but he couldn't leave them to face the event tomorrow morning alone.  
He walked up the small, brick pathway up to the door. He stopped, frozen in place. Should he enter or not? Would it be the wise choice?  
Sydney Carton hesitated before knocking softly. When no one answered he knocked again, louder. There was scuffling inside and the door opened.  
He was greeted by the tired face of Jarvis Lorry. "You shouldn't be here Carton," he whispered.  
Carton walked in. He spoke as he took off his jacket and hung it on the back of an armchair. "I really tried, I did, he saw through my act," When he was finished he sat down in the arm chair, face in his hands.  
"I promised her," he said. "I promised her I wouldn't let her or anyone she loved be harmed,"  
Mr. Lorry bit his lip. "Er…do you want anything to drink?" he asked.  
"A shot of whiskey would be nice," Carton said rubbing his pounding temples.  
Mr. Lorry pursed his lips together, but his lips were dry and he couldn't just yet form the words.  
"You know I think it would be best to stay away from hard drinks for the time being, is a glass of water not too difficult?" Sydney asked.  
Mr. Lorry nodded and went to get the man some water.  
A few moments later Carton heard a gasp from the top of the stairs. He turned his head a little, seeing Lucie standing at the foot of the stairs, blond hair put up.  
Her blue eyes widened dreamily as she scurried down the stairs to Carton.  
"Charles! Oh Charles you're here!" she cried literally throwing herself in Sydney's arms, for he had stood up.  
When Lucie opened her eyes-for she had closed them in these moments- and looked up to realize it wasn't her beloved husband but his twin look alike, Sydney Carton.  
She backed up a little. "Sydney? I'm sorry, I thought you were Charles…when did you get here?"  
Sydney sat back down in the chair, suddenly even more depressed. "I'm sorry Lucie, darling, I tried, I really tried, I went up to his cell, but he saw through my act and didn't want me to save him. He would have rather died! I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't listen-"Sydney began.  
Lucie's legs couldn't support her anymore and she collapsed onto Sydney's lap, burying her face in his chest. His jacket had fallen off the back of the chair by now.  
Lucie began sobbing, he could feel her tears.  
Sydney wrapped his arms around her, stroking her beautiful hair, trying to comfort her.  
"I told you Sydney, I told you," she choked back a sob.  
"I know Lucie, I know," he said rocking back and forth in the chair.  
"I told you not to go. He wouldn't listen, his heart's too kind, he wouldn't understand,"  
Sydney didn't respond.  
"I didn't want you to go Sydney, I really didn't,"  
Mr. Lorry had walked in the room just a moment ago and stood- glass in hand- as he watched the scene.  
Just now little Lucie walked up, she stood at the foot of the living room by Mr. Lorry.  
"Mama? Sydney? Is something a matter?" she asked with that childlike innocence.  
"No, no, sweetie," Lucie said-her voice cracking.  
Mr. Lorry sat the glass down on a small table.  
"Up you go little missy, let's go do something else for now," he said picking up the small girl.  
"Okay!" little Lucie beamed, happily naïve.  
"Oh Sydney," Lucie sobbed.

The group stood in the front of the crowd, the angry, loud, troublesome mob.  
Lucie held little Lucie, her little blond head buried in her mother's chest as she lay sound asleep.  
Good, Sydney thought. It will be better that way. He quickly spotted the small figure of Darnay in the distance as he walked out of the carriage. He looked over at his companions; it didn't seem as if Jarvis, Pross, or Lucie had seen Darnay yet. He wouldn't tell them, it would just make things harder.  
Sydney looked back at his identical stranger. He stood by a young girl, who couldn't be more than seventeen; the age Lucie was when they met her.  
They appeared to be talking softly; Darnay had a hand on the girl's shoulder. Charles loved his Lucie so, and knowing him he was trying to comfort the poor girl. Leave it to Darnay to do such.  
If Sydney's plan had worked out the way he wanted he would be there with the child.  
Sydney bit his lip as Darnay neared the Guillotine. If his brown hair wasn't in its ponytail his hand would be running through it, similar to what Jarvis and Doctor Manette were doing with their white hair.  
Then Darnay entered the line that would slowly lead him to his execution. He was in the front of the line sadly, or was that better? To get his Death over with?  
Some say Death is just another adventure that every living thing has to experience…that is not true if you'll leaving love ones before you're supposed to.  
The Lord is evil. Is there even a Lord? Maybe—maybe this is just out of his control? Perhaps—the first man lay down, and the sharp metal of the Guillotine was released.  
Sydney closed his eyes right before it cut clean through the old flesh.

He looked over and saw the Doctor Manette now held the sleeping child to his chest. A sobbing Lucie fell towards him, crying into his shoulder.  
Sydney wrapped an arm around her waist keeping her upright as she leaned against him for support.  
The second man went up breathing, and came down dead, in two.  
Lucie sobbed harder now that Charles was closer to his death-which was mere moments away.  
As Lucie sobbed harder the mob roared louder. They were bloodthirsty and wanted to see the death of a noble. They didn't care who he was, or if he had good intentions, or if he would make the most perfect, charismatic leader, he was of noble blood, and that's all that mattered. They didn't care that he had denounced Evremonde, and had taken up his mother's maiden name.  
The mob looked like a pack of wild dogs, vicious, wild, and uncontrollable.  
Too soon, Darnay lay on the wooden board, the sharp metal piece above him begging to be released.  
Suddenly the area around the Guillotine exploded in a thick covering of light purple mist.  
Before everything was hidden Sydney saw the man that held the string to Darnay's death fall, a thinly handled knife slips in and out the side of his neck.  
The mob went wild. They were screaming and raging. Before anything could erupt the mist began to fade, procuring a tall, thin figure from it.  
Lucie slowly looked up from Sydney's shoulder, confused. The girl couldn't be more than 18, figured Sydney, when she came into fill view. Well, physically at least, the way she composed herself, held herself together, spoke, and looked out to everyone, she looked like she have lived a lifetime, but that wasn't possible.  
She had pale, fair skin, long curly, auburn-red hair, bright, knowing blue green eyes. Her fingers were long and slender, nails long and fine, Sydney noted as she stretched her arm out to survey the crowd. Her voice was melodic, jumping up and down, it was soft but loud, modest but powerful, gentle but striking.  
She wore a long, pale skirt that was torn at the bottom and a shirt of the same light shade that was also paling. Its sleeves came down to the elbow and were slit up to her shoulder. Its collar was a V neck and strings ran across the two sides of the V.  
She spoke legions and no one neglected to listen. Her words were simple but complex, vague but specific, concrete but abstract, original but not.  
The words were revolutionary, yes, but any revolutionary that wasn't a full radical could have easily had these thoughts, spoken these words.  
It wasn't meant for her to be the first, but for her to be a distraction, an _illusion_.

.  
Charles turned his head sideways as he heard scuffling besides him.  
There, knelt beside him was a small, feminine figure in a long, scarlet red cloak with gold strings at the collar. Auburn red hair fell out of her hood and around her pale face.  
She began freeing him from his bindings, strangely none if the hundreds around them saw this.  
"Who are you?" Charles asked.  
"Natalia Domini, Illusionist," she said softly, without looking up.

Illusionist? "Why are you here? What are you doing?" he asked.  
"Saving you obviously,"  
"I didn't want anyone too,"  
"Well, I am,"  
Darnay pursed his lips together. "I don't even know you, why do you bother?"  
Natalia was quiet for a moment as she seemed to be thinking, staring at nothing. "A life you Love," she muttered bitterly and faintly, the rest was too soft to even slightly make it out.  
"What?" Darnay asked.  
She ignored him and pulled him up and to the ground next to her. "You have to do exactly as I say, Evremonde,"  
Darnay flinched at the way she said his true name.  
"Promise me you won't go back on it because you don't like what you hear,"  
Darnay swallowed, voice cracking. "I-I promise,"  
"When we are done here you are to find your group-you should be able to find them all quite easily, Lucie, little Lucie, Doctor Manette, Mr. Lorry, Pross, and…Sydney-and get out of Paris, no, France, as quickly as possible. Don't stop, go anywhere but here, particularly England," she explained, whispering.  
"But the Mob-"Darnay began.  
Natalia cut him off. "Don't you worry, I have that all taken care of,"  
Realizing what the young girl meant his eyes widened. "But you could be-"  
Natalia pursed her lips together. "I have no intention of confronting death today," she said through gritted teeth.  
Darnay nodded slowly.  
"Go!" she said, pushing him slightly.  
"How do I ever thank you for recalling me to Life?" Charles Darnay asked.  
"You don't," she said, standing up.  
Darnay crept over to his group as the girl stood before the crowd.  
She cleared her throat but only a few people looked up. "Look at me!" she shouted, her voice shrilly and frightening.  
The crowd slowly looked up at her.  
"I am a witch, I practice the ancient magics of dark…the Devil appeared to me in a dream, commanding me to walk upon the world of the living and free these traitors, curse you all!" she cried, throwing her arms up in the air, totally overdoing this but it worked.  
It was very convincing, but Sydney and Charles knew she was lying through her teeth; they just didn't know why, especially Sydney.  
"A witch! Make a bridge out of her!" cried a filthy peasant.  
"No! You drown witches!" cried a smelly one.  
"NOOO! You weigh her against a duck and if she weighs less she's a witch!" cried yet another.  
"That makes no sense,"  
"You are all idiots! We burn Witches!" cried an elderly woman whose been accused of being a witch herself and wanted to get the blame off herself. "Condemn her!"  
Natalia flashed a mischievous grin. "If you can catch me," she said slyly, releasing more light purple mist.  
In the chaos that followed Sydney and Charles began to evacuate the group. Charles knew the girl couldn't be a witch, magic wasn't real. She just had to be able to use available science and technology to her will, to help with her… _illusions_.  
Magic was not real…right?  
That would just make things way too unrealistic…too surreal…

The group managed to get all of their possessions and get on a carriage out of the city.  
Inside the carriage little Lucie lay asleep on her father's lap, oblivious to it all.  
Lucie had also fallen asleep to the soft bump of the carriage as it treaded along the road, her head on Charles shoulder, happy and relieved that her family-her family including Pross, Mr. Lorry, and Sydney as well as her husband, father, and daughter- were safe.

As our favorite characters were making it out safe, this mysterious, new girl was, frankly, not.  
Natalia Domini was tied to a wooden pole surrounded by piles of wood that would soon be set upon fire. The mob roared and it was deafening to Natalia's ears.  
Even though she would soon confront Death again she was not afraid.  
Death was just yet another adventure for one who has lived through Life, or fulfilled theirs at least.  
The fire rose up her body but that smile never faded from the young girl's lips…

**The End**

*****Continued Ending*****

**I wasn't sure if I should do this, I thought it may seem too…what's the word, fake? You can read it if you didn't like that ending.**

As the fire burnt through her body, leaving her in ashes, a light purple mist formed, rising from the ashes.  
The wind quickly carried it over the land, up north to a humble street in an old part of London.  
The mist materialized to form Natalia as she stood behind a tree, watching the carriage drive up the road and past her.  
She smiled, sadly wishing she could be his.  
She watched him as he carried a sleeping Lucie as Charles carried his daughter inside the house, Pross, Mr. Lorry, and Doctor Manette ahead.  
The mist formed up again and the wind carried her over to him, not fully materialized from the mist she whispered in his ear.  
"Live well, Love. Don't disappoint me; I didn't do all this for nothing. _For you and anyone dear to you I would do anything. _Yes, darling, you're the kindest soul I ever met," whispered Sydney Carton's guardian angel.

**Well...thanks for reading I guess...=P**


End file.
